


To begin anew

by Kechk



Category: Korean Drama, 쓸쓸하고 찬란하神 - 도깨비 | Goblin (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lots and lots of crying, some nsfw in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-16 22:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11262015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kechk/pseuds/Kechk
Summary: As the rain pours, it washes away the mud.After the death of a missing soul.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have too many ideas for stories but my writing lacks the finesse desired to convey them. Basically I’ve been in a writing slump (i’ve been drawing lots though hahaha) and I should really continue writing Sun-dried Persimmons. Oh well. I still haven’t seen a fic addressing Shin and Yeo’s grief of ET’s death and the time these two were really the only ones there for each other.
> 
> Multichaptered fic with short chaps because if i make it long I’ll never update hahahaha Pray that my motivation to write remains.
> 
> Hopefully I do the characters justice. Please share your thoughts!

It surprises him, the number of people who loved Ji Eun Tak. The goblin’s bride. The grim reaper’s missing soul.

Solemn, the atmosphere of the funeral procession. Men and women clad in black and white mourning clothes, makeup smeared by tears and lips quivering with words they wish they had uttered to the young lady they had loved. In the face of death, everything is regrettable.

Amongst the crowd are Eun Tak’s colleagues from the radio station. They leave trinkets that remind them of the departed by her tombstone, next to the flowers and incense. From them, there are notebooks, CDs, DVDs, photographs, cards. Material items the goblin had no idea his bride had loved, had not had the chance to find out. Nine years were a long time to be away.

From the family she had found, there are albums of photos she had made using the camera director Yu had gifted her, there is the slightly worn Mr Buckwheat doll, there is the plastic laminated maple leaf, carefully laid in Mr Buckwheat’s lap.

The items they had to commemorate the missing soul are few in number in comparison to the ties she had made whilst growing up. At least, they are an indicator that she had not been lonesome in those nine years, managing to find comfort in someone else’s companionship. She had made a large impact to those around her, the spread of memorabilia by Shin’s feet a testament. 

A doubt ten years old, buried by his need, his longing, his loneliness. It niggles his mind. She had shined bright in his long lifetime but he had barely dented her short one of 29 years. The goblin’s bride had been different from the departed beloved he’d had in the past. Unique, the flavour of pain he had swallowed. The smoke from the joss sticks sting his nose all the same as he had inhaled 800 years ago, 700 years ago, 600 years ago. Thick and as affecting as they have always been, the number of funerals he has attended required more fingers than he had to count. Finding the regularity of death cathartic, Shin chuckled darkly in bitterness.

It is not raining but the ground is wet from a recent heavy downpour.

She had asked him to not make it rain, to not inconvenience others. On her funeral day, he would honour her wishes and not fall apart. Her memory would be kept safe with the others he had in his heart. The one he’d fallen in love with when he had not known the breadth of his goblinhood. The one he’d fallen in love with when he had needed comfort. The one he’d fallen in love with as helplessly as Newton’s apple.

“Uncle,” His dreary ruminations are broken by the soft knock on his door.

“There’s someone here to see you. She says she knows you and Eun Tak.” 

“Knew. Knew Eun Tak.”

The young heir silently maneuvers to give way.  

“Brother.” Her golden brown hair seemed dulled, her lips pursed with sobs held back, her eyes puffy and red from tears shed.

“Sun.”

“Are you alright?” She wraps her arms around his neck, with him bending slightly to suit her height. The tears fall once more, as he tries to feel even the warmth of his sister’s presence.

Ji Eun Tak was one human of the many he had met in this lifetime. Irregardless, she was precious and beloved.

The rain returns.

-

It has been weeks, months maybe, since the coffin had been buried and her name etched into stone.

Sunny has returned to her restaurant, Deok Hwa to his work. Eun Tak would have been at the radio station had she not been lowered into the ground.

Wandering about the house with a bottle in hand, echoes of her laughter and her smiles haunt him. Her dark hair, short unlike how he’d remembered it. Her eyes, with thicker under eyelids from late night work shifts. Her stature, long gone is the girl that approached him with concepts of marriage and children just a few moments to their meeting. Nine years were a long time and all he has left of her are memories of a nineteen year old working her way to college in a once lonesome mansion.

He runs his cold palms down his face, feeling the pronounced eyebags from restless nights and rough stubble from his unkempt moustache. He is unsure when it was last he cared about his dress. Most of all, he is ashamed to have descended into this state so quickly.

Nine years were a long time and he had marched and tried so desperately.

Nine years were a long time and he had failed irregardless.

Suddenly everything around him is a glaring reminder of what he has lost. Every sacred corner of the world he held dear he had shared with her. Now, she is gone and with her, the solace from them. There is no peace to be found in Quebec, no peace to be found in his frequented bookstore, no peace to be found even in his bedroom.

In the corner of the living room, he huddles into himself, face hidden behind bent knees. The invisible forces of the room suffocating and overwhelming, there is so much room yet so little of it. He wishes for the bliss of oblivion.

“... Shin?”

Perhaps it is the alcohol, perhaps it is the grief. All that he responds with is a self-deprecating chuckle. Raw and rasping, it hurts the throat.

“Isn’t it idiot goblin to you? It’s appropriate. The gods must be laughing at me. I am the butt of their 900 year long practical joke.” Lips stretched a tad too much, tear tracks long dried accenting his cheeks, the goblin snickers bitterly at his past king.

Wang Yeo. What a joke the gods had played. To make it so he cannot even exact his rightful revenge upon his family’s killer, to make it so that he cannot help but forgive his mortal enemy turned friend. Ah, hold on, it had not been the gods. It had been himself. _His choices._

He realises later that he had burst into a fit of laughter, broken and pained, stopping only when he is exhausted and in need of air. Yeo looks down at him worriedly, his black hat wrung nervously in his hands, lips pursed with concern, weighed by the indecision of letting Shin grieve like this for longer or not.

Shin thinks. _No, leave me be. I’ll be fine soon after. I’m always like this after. Always have been. Leave me be. Leave me be. Leave me be._

Instead of heeding his wishes, made loud and clear, the reaper bends down to pluck the bottle away from Shin’s trembling fingers, a product of fatigue. Close up, Shin notes how exhaustion made its mark on Yeo’s face as well, his countenance wearied more than usual.

“She was my friend too.” Yeo replies despite the absence of a question.

The goblin lets his friend pull him up, his arm draped across the reaper’s shoulders, his waist held firm in Yeo’s grip. Steadying.

“Can you make it up the stairs?”

Shin wants to suggest teleporting himself but he’s tipsy and misadventures with his abilities are better left unexplored. He giggles. The cold body pressed to his tickles. Back during the new year nine years ago, he’d felt it. The icy touch of the reaper, not unlike a corpse.

Dazedly, Shin notes that the world has tilted on its axis and that there are cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling. The darkness of the room and the contrast of the pristine white covers are the last thing that registers in his mind before he falls into a dreamless slumber.

 

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a small step. But a step is a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get this out quickly because i have feelings. Enjoy!

“Sunny.” Her small smile tears at his frayed heart. 

“Yeo.” A single syllable. More significant than the longest word. More dangerous.

Chewing his underlip and blinking rapidly, his surprise and curiosity are overridden by his indecision. 

“I heard about Eun Tak and came straight away. I’m… sorry… I-” She seemed aged. Worn by nine years of accompanying an amnesiac Eun Tak’s side only to lose her so suddenly when she’d believed all was  _ finally  _ well. 

“It’s just… I should’ve been here for her… I- I left her… I thought it was al-alright to go…” Her frame trembles as she sobs, gone is her public facade of invincibility.  

The reaper steps forward, hands outstretched, inches away from holding her. He stops himself in time. 

_ Sometimes you are Kim Woo Bin, sometimes you are Wang Yeo.  _

She buries herself into his black sweater, letting her tears soak into the wool, letting herself take comfort for this moment. Wang Yeo was the man Kim Sun had loved. Kim Woo Bin the man Sunny had loved. In this lifetime, she was Sunny. But the man before her is not simply Kim Woo Bin, but also Wang Yeo. 

She cannot love him as Kim Sun did in this lifetime.

But loss has shaken the foundations of her core. For now, she will accept the comfort of a friend. For now, she will stay. Eun Tak would have wanted everyone to stay together for at least a little while longer.

His body is cold, reflective of his abilities. He tries regardless, to offer whatever warmth he can muster to the woman whose name refers to a blazing star. 

When they part, her tears have stopped falling, his underlip is spared its prior treatment. 

“Are you alright?” She asks as she wipes the remaining tears away with the back of her hand, once more standing with the stature of a queen. 

“I will be.” He gives her his honesty.

“Please, take care of him for me? For Eun Tak?”  _ As his friend?  _ Sunny had no need to ask that of him, his eyes bright and determined despite the prominent evidence of his restlessness at night. 

“Take care, be happy.”

“You too.”

 

-

 

“Uncle tenant, can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure.” Yeo stands, back aching from the squatting position he was in earlier. His right hand holds a lighter. The other holds the burnt out joss sticks and melted wax pieces from candles.  

“Who was she to uncle? I feel like I should know her… but I don’t.” The young director appears more uneasy than nine years ago when his grandfather had passed away and the business thrust into his arms. 

Yeo tosses the rubbish into the bin before clearing his throat. “Come, let’s go home first.”

The solemnity of Yeo’s speech are not lost on the young man, it bears resemblance to his uncle’s speech whenever he spoke of Goryeo. He follows.

The drive home is silent and Deok Hwa can feel the sweat on his palms spread on the leather of the steering wheel. Gaze elsewhere, the reaper’s mind wanders. On his lap is Eun Tak’s red scarf, folded neatly with Yeo’s hand rested on them gently. It is the last of the items to be taken back from the temple.

His uncle’s friend,  _ Wang Yeo,  _ as newly edited on the tenancy agreement, settles down by the steps of the mansion entrance. Yeo sits to the doorway’s left and himself to the doorway’s right. It feels vaguely familiar, the coolness of the marble steps felt through the fabric of his pants.

“I think it’s best if we stay out here for this.”

Deok Hwa hears nothing but the crickets in the garden and their eerie chirps. Yeo hears Shin’s string of apologies and cries.

“How much do you remember about your uncle?”

“My memories are not a hundred percent back yet but I do know he’s a goblin. I’ve known since I was a kid actually. He was drunk then, making gold bars appear everywhere and not giving any of them to me. 

The reaper chuckles and the sound is strange and foreign, mystical in its rarity and sincerity. Deok Hwa blinks. It feels like it has been too long since anything of the like had been heard at the mansion.

Yeo tilts his head back and closes his eyes, inhaling the frigid air deeply before sighing. 

“You’re still missing some memories from nine years ago, huh?”

“I guess?”

“Hold on. I have something that might jolt your memory of her.”

Black smog fills the space left by his uncle tenant.  

“Tch. Both my uncles are terrible at keeping secrets.” 

Seconds later, the reaper returns with a photo held tenderly in both hands. He looks at it with the fondest smile Deok Hwa has ever seen on his face before handing it to him. Deok Hwa is almost afraid to touch the precious item that tugged at his almost unfeeling uncle’s lips. 

“You took this photo of us nine years ago. She was so happy then.”

The photo has traces of moisture in several areas. Wherever they’re from, they’ve ‘aged’ the photo with small yellowed circles. There are wrinkles alike when he spilt drops of water on his textbook and had taken too long to dry.

“I took this photo?” 

“Yes. You passed me a copy then. Eun Tak and you were fighting over a camera your grandfather gifted her.”

The moment becomes crisper and more defined in his mind. His yelps and her shrieks plus the distant clink of his uncles’ drinks. As Eun Tak’s giggles ring through his mind, his tears fall onto the photo. 

Deok Hwa realises then, the photo had been stained by tears. 

-

 

The familiar smell of fabric softener invades his nostrils. Lemon and lime flavoured. Of course. Yeo was the one who did the laundry and bought the cleaning agents. 

White walls instead of his own room’s black are what inform him of his current location. The reaper’s hat hung on the wall to his right confirms it. If his head wasn’t pounding, he would’ve leapt out of the bed. 

Even if it seems warmer than his own.

“You’re awake.”

Yeo stands by the foot of the bed, a tray of porridge and apple bunnies held in his hands. It feels like a pastiche of the time he did the same for the reaper. The apple bunnies are more expertly cut than his own, though. 

If he’s touched, he does not say it. Yeo knows regardless.

Last night’s fit of grief and alcohol replay on his mind. 

“Why… why did you let me sleep  _ here _ ?” The goblin knows the reaper’s unwillingness to share his own personal effects. Reserved, he was.

“I heard you… about how everywhere reminded you… of her. Of the missing soul.”

Uncaring, he was not.

“Oh.”

Yeo steps forward with soft steps to the bedside table. “I’ll leave this here for you. If you don’t want to eat, at least have the water before going back to bed.”

“Aren’t you bitter about my tainting your bed?” Shin asks whilst massaging his throbbing forehead. 

“It’s alright. Just don’t spill anything.”

“I know, I know- Oops.” An apple bunny slips from Shin’s fingertips as he speaks, flopping onto the bed sheets and leaving a trail of sticky apple juices. Yeo swipes it up before it can do more damage. 

“I have... butter fingers.” Shin explains at Yeo’s slight frown. 

“Are you positive you didn’t do that on purpose?” 

“Maybe.” At Yeo’s exasperated expression, Shin huffs a laugh despite feeling dreadful. Yeo hides his own grin with a munch on the apple slice. 

“You can have the rest, I want to have some porridge.” The goblin leaves the plate of apple bunnies at the corner of the bed, inviting Yeo to sit and chat. It has been some time since he has done anything but grieve on his own. 

A weak hand cups the bowl of warm porridge, the other scooping it up to chapped lips. In the corner of his vision, Yeo stares, eyebrows furrowed with concern. It is not for fear of stains on the bed sheets. 

“Thank you, you know, for this.” 

Yeo blinks.  Wringing his hands in his lap, the reaper sits in attention.

“About last night… I'm sorry.”

“What for?”

“I…”  _ didn’t mean what I said.  I don’t regret it. Forgiving you. (Loving you.) _

Tired eyes meet concerned ones and the two share a conversation void of spoken words.  

_ I know. _

_ I’m sorry I forgot about you and the others. You loved her too.  _

The bed creaks as Yeo shifts closer, pulling Shin into a hug. It seems so long ago, when his friend's touch sparked disgust. It is welcome now. In the blistering cold left from the loss of a friend, they are each other’s hearth.

Spring will come again. 

“Shh… if you cry, it’ll rain.” Yeo whispers.

“If both of us cry, the rain will get even heavier.” The goblin huff with a small smile on his lips.

It will, it will come again.

In time.

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it doesn't seem overly rushed. They are still grieving, this chap is just some comfort bc whilst intoxicated you might think of things you don't mean. Yeo's been keenly aware of what Shin's been thinking and feeling but Shin can hear it too.
> 
> I'll explore more of Sunny and Deok Hwa's angst in the future.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strangers bring doubts to his doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re wondering how many chapters this whole fic is gonna be… well Idk. I don’t have the whole thing planned out and each chapter is kind of slice of life-ish. As the characters move on from Eun Tak’s death and continue living.
> 
> Warnings for alcohol.

“We’re so sorry for your loss.” They take his hand and shake it, their noses red from sniffling.

Choi Ji Hyun. Kang Yi Na. Park Min Suk-

The names draw nothing from his memories, their faces bearing no semblance of familiarity. They are strangers. Strangers that Eun Tak knew and had been close friends with, according to them.

“Eun Tak did invite me to your engagement dinner but I was not in the country then. I’m… sorry we had to meet under such circumstances.” The lady purses her trembling lips, her hair tied into a neat bun, clad in a simple black dress. “She was… a good friend.”

She looks up at Shin before blinking at his blank expression. “Oh, sorry, silly me. I am Kim Yoo Na, Eun Tak’s friend from Uni. I first knew her as a classmate in highschool, I was her class-president.” A sigh. “I wasn’t her friend until we were in the same Uni, I wish…”

Yoo Na licks her lips despite the presence of skin coloured lipstick. “I wish I had been her friend earlier. I regret it.” The last sentence is spoken with a tremble, her gaze now on the latest picture of Eun Tak, provided by Yoo Na herself.

She is his bride’s friend. She is a stranger.

Shin does not regret meeting a girl as small as violet but regret he does, for not knowing the size of her heart, the breadth of her love.

-

“I have photos of her on her graduation day.” Sunny passes her phone, protected by a casing bedazzled with cheap plastic gems that seem childish and not of her taste. Shin finds out later that Eun Tak had picked up crafting in Uni to beat the stress, the cover one of her first attempts at the art. A gift for Sunny’s success in meeting another man. Sunny tells him, that she is seeing someone else now, a woman, and that she will introduce him soon.

Sunny was Kim Sun, his sister, in her past life. Back then, he heard of her life through letters on the battlefield. In this one, he will try to be a better brother.

“Sun, could you tell me a bit about then? About what life was like for her?”

Sunny doesn’t correct him whenever he calls her ‘Sun’. He will try harder to remember next time.

“She used to message me about her frustration at her managers when she was interning at the radio station. She complained about how they were overworking her and underpaying her in addition to their ‘arrogant male syndrome’.” Shin laughs along with her, unsure if he is convincing enough in his act of keeping together, his act of understanding what she means.

“Did she meet anyone new? When she… forgot about me?”

“Do you really…” Shin’s earnest gaze gives her pause. “Brother, where… no what happened to you in those nine years? How did you… come back?”

He tells her nothing to spare her the burden of knowing. Sunny relents, for now, instead telling him of Eun Tak’s first disastrous and hilarious attempt at speed dating.

He finds out that Eun Tak told his sister of the unnamable guilt she had felt. How she felt like she was cheating. Even if the people she met really did make her feel happy.

Shin feels his heart squeeze uncomfortably.

It is nothing, right?

-

The funeral procession is over. Mourners have left him with more than just stories of how they knew Ji Eun Tak. There is more. More than the heartache of missing her. More than the crushing of his soul from losing her.

Doubts raise their ugly heads in his mind.

It is embarrassing, how quickly he reaches for the liquor in the cupboard, pouring and downing glass after glass of the rust coloured liquid.

He had hoped for their distraction from following this train of thought. Instead, they amplify it. Vivid images of Eun Tak smiling surge into the forefront of his mind.

He takes another drink.

His most revisited memory of her is their wedding day. She is beautiful in her short hair. He had not been there to compliment her when she had first cut it.

Clinking the mouth of the bottle to the cup, the liquid sloshes quietly as he pours.

Eun Tak had apparently had eyes on a particular position at work. He had not known but her colleague tells him of the many colourful post-it notes she stuck to her work desk, with small motivational quotes from her favourite movie actors doodled onto them. He does not know who they are. He does not know what she had aimed to achieve.

The warmth of his cheeks contrast the bitter cold he is feeling, the heaviness of his head has him leaning into the sofa like a dead weight. Unsteady hands bring the cup to trembling lips for yet another sip.

Pale hands remove the drink from his, setting the cup, half-empty, on the table top beside him.

Shin asks without looking into those eyes so full of concern they are unbearable. “Why do I not… know her?”

He hiccups. Yeo stays silent.

“Shouldn’t I know of her entirety? What she likes and dislikes, what she loves and hates?”

He swallows the lump in his throat, licking his lips, tongue hungry for the bitter taste of alcohol.

“Was she better off not knowing me? Did I kill her?”

Yeo rests his hands on the goblin's shoulders to pull him into attention. With no quiver in his voice, he tells Shin.

“You loved her. As did she. That is all that matters.”

Shin bends to cry into his lap, greasy hair splayed onto his knees, shoulders shuddering with every sob.

“Did I love her or did I love my idea of her?” _She was everything to me, and I thought I knew her but I don't, I still don't, not when I should have, not when I still could- now she's gone and it's too late- why do I not know the answer, if she were alive to ask me, what she'd prefer, quiet nights or bright daylight, sunrises or sunsets, the sun or the moon, why is she still a mystery, a near stranger to me, she who moved me and I who moved so little of her-_

“You were just as loved and you were important to her, Shin.” The circles Yeo rubs into his back hardly register in his mind as he tumbles continuously into the dark pits of fear, doubt and regret.

“But I don't know and never will know, will I?” _She is gone and with it all the chances I had to find out, to discover- why did we never speak of our pasts, bear our souls to each other, did I even ask her what she had done in the nine years I had left her? Why am I still left with questions even when she clutched the blade so bravely nine years ago? Did she love me or the idea of me? Was it her over-generous heart or her genuine one? Why am I left with complicated doubts and not simple regrets-_

With fingers digging into Shin's shoulders, Yeo pushes Shin upright again.

“What matters is that she meant something to you.You have every right to grieve for her, to miss her, to regret.” Yeo speaks with confidence, no waver to his conviction.

_Regardless of how you loved her, Shin, you did love her._

_(As you do me.)_

_That is of no doubt._

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick updates, trying to ride the mood to write and get this out of my head. Hopefully this is going okay so far. I have a feeling this is roasting the ShinTak ship woops *grumbles abt goblin's plotholes and falling flat*
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had been alone. He had not realised, he was not. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently made a comic abt Shin and his sword wound. Hah. ANGST. And comfort of course. 
> 
> Also, I think it’s pretty obvious already but all these scenes are jumping around different points in time. There is some continuity between the scenes with Shin and Yeo in it so far i think? Idk. Once again, this fic isn’t all planned out and isn’t very plotty (idk) since it’s an exploration of various time gaps after, and before Et’s death. Regardless, each chapter will feature Shin and Yeo post Et's death. 
> 
> Warnings for suicide attempt (sort of?), drugs, alcohol, scars, mentions of wounds, PTSD symptoms, medical stuff.

_“You’re applying for leave, senior_ Wang _?” the reaper before him gasps, eyes bulging comically from their sockets, leaning towards Yeo without consideration for personal space._

_“Yes.”_

_“But-” Before he can finish sputtering, Yeo stands. Hat in one hand, coat in the other, he leaves._  

“He _never_ goes on leave.” Yeo’s junior drags out the word, disbelief laced under his breath.

“That’s true, I’ve known him since 1852 and he has never once applied for leave.” Another reaper intones.

“Why now then? He’s always been a workaholic and slave-driver.” Yet another gossips.

“Yah, shouldn’t you know already?”

“Know what?”

“The other day you witnessed it, the goblin bride’s death.”

“What?”

The old lady sighs at the gossiping reapers whilst they were hidden from the world with their invisibility, each donning their iconic black hats.

“Why would senior Wang take leave for the death of a missing soul?”

Her eyes meet the inquisitive reaper’s, accusatory. It is not directed at him, but the hat’s manufacturer. If he can make it so that humans are blinded to reapers, why not blind the reapers as well?

Behind the sclera, the lens, the fovea of every reaper, there is a film, clouding their image of the world,  their perception and their feeling. Senior Wang stirs it, jostles it, makes them _question_ and _worry_ . A reaper _was_ human. Past tense. No beating heart. Human compassion, empathy and understanding, shrouded by divine commands and musings.

“I need to get back to work.”

“Yeah, it’s no good thinking about Senior _Wang_ too much. Let’s go.”

The samshin releases a long breath. She does love all of her children, but some matters are out of her hands. By her roadside stall she thinks of the goblin and grim reaper, breaking the rules of fate, where possible, according to their hearts desire. Attempted to, that is.

As the rain falls once more, she thinks.

_I made you when I was happy, it is fitting for a world devoid of you to cry._

 

-

 

It happens every year and on the same day. A burning sensation that tears through his sternum and sears his insides, rendering him incapable of moving. Folded into a ball, he waits for it to pass, forming ice around his palm and pressing it to his sweaty chest.

_25 seconds._

The long scar burns with heat unnatural, of unknown origin and cause. Biting his lip to hold in his howls of agony, the ice on his palm sizzle upon contact with his skin. His ailment is a wonder.

An anomaly.

No other reaper has ever reported of bolstering such a scar and such a predicament.

_50 seconds._

His lungs heave in attempt to regulate his breathing. Every inhale and exhale sends a sharp pang to his heart that should not beat. It feels as if there is something lodged within his ribcage, skewering him between the lungs and through to his spine, long and hot it transfixes him in a world blindingly white.

_1 minute 35 seconds._

This is not the only scar he owns. Circling his wrists and ankles, there are old scars, close to fading but still visible. Unlike the one causing agony, unaging, the area flushing red and raw this time of year.

“ _Have you ever been hit by peach blossoms?”_ A newly inducted reaper once asked their senior. 

_“Yes, they scar for quite a time.”_

He wonders sometimes, ridiculous as the prospect is, whether there is a peach blossom lying between the space of his thoracic cavity, resulting in his current agony. Does physical pain manifest into an emotional one? Or the other way around?

_1 minute 54 seconds._

Laying in cold sweat he ponders with more clarity than his fellow reapers. What crime he committed, for what purpose he wanders the earth, why his heart aches so. As if the physical hurt transcended to an emotional one, melancholic are his thoughts, the deeply entrenched sorrow likening the burning sensation felt prior.

He finds his answer in a name 300 years later, in a temple pristine and imbued with the scent of incense and candles.

As he lets the lantern float into the nothingness of the stratosphere, he knows the cause of his yearly torment.

It had been his name initially, that crippled him.

Then it is Kim Shin.

Now, it is Ji Eun Tak.

 

-

 

God hated him. Of that, he was certain. Waking to sweat soaked sheets and a pounding headache, it was not a good morning. Why were goblins designed to experience hangovers? Running his fingers through his mop of hair he shifts to get up, standing on knobbly knees to trudge to the bathroom.

Eying himself in the mirror, he does not recognise himself. It is not the worst reflection of himself he has seen but neither is it the best. A flash of muddy plains and splattering blood from swords swung causes him to shudder. Human memory was designed to be an enemy of itself.

Peeling off his putrid shirt and pants, he lets the hot shower rinse away the tenseness in his muscles, steam exfoliating the pores of his skin. Exhaling to purge himself of reliving his days as a general, he reminds himself that the wetness of the shower is different from that of sticky blood. There no horses neighing, no men screaming. Only the soft hiss of water spurting from the shower head, the gurgle of soapy water draining into pipes.

Monotonous, plebeian, everyday sounds.

He takes comfort in them, the quiet.

For just a while he forgets about his goblin-hood, his meeting with god, his nine year exile into purgatory, his bride’s _death-_

Deep breaths.

The floor of the tub squeaks as he steps to grab at the soft towel. Letting the fabric cuddle his body marred by war and its brutality, feeling it soak up moisture, weighing not uncomfortably on his shoulders. Droplets of water travel down his long hair, cut by the reaper himself just five months prior.

Five months he had been back and three since she had died. Time passed quickly when one was not conscious to witness it.

_“Don’t ever take this again.”_

Ah, a more recent memory. He latches to it lest he peruse the past further, slamming the metaphoric door in their faces.

_In Yeo’s hands are a packet of pills. Tylenol. Paracetamol. Acetaminophen. An over the counter drug. He can retrieve a whole truck load with a snap of his fingers. Illegally. He can buy a whole truck load with a dial of a button. Legally._

_“You can’t take this with alcohol.”_

_His lips twist into a sardonic grin, the stretch of his cheeks foreign. Had he not been under alcohol’s unforgiving grasp, he would regret it. He hisses the words the reaper once gave him with venom he knew in his subconscious was directed not at Yeo, but himself. “Haven’t you heard of the placebo effect?”_

_“This won’t help at all, you know this.”_

_“What?” Internally, a part of him squashed by the alcohol’s influence screams for him to shut up. Yeo’s face is frozen, lips pressed into a thin line, gaze on the goblin but attention split between the present and Goryeo. Shin grins. “I know that unlike a human my liver won’t fail and I won’t die a horrible, painful death.”_

_Yeo’s flinch hurts like a whip on bare skin. But he is drunk and bitter and not of the right mind. He laughs, loud and guttural at first before croaking and coughing, sobs wracking his frame. The reaper looks at him with trepidation, for him. Concern. Ignoring his own insecurities, choosing to set them aside for the moment. Shin feels Yeo’s scrutiny would have been vexing had he not had nine (hundred) years of contemplation and nine in a wintery plain to remind him of the cold man. An exterior. A front._

_This version of his past king, is everything he had wanted him to be. His duty as general is done, so is Yeo's grasp on the throne. They are mere pawns of deities now. As is every living thing._

_“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m just-” Tired. Exhausted. Worn out. Weary._

Shin shakes his wet hair like a dog, biting his under lip harshly as he cards his fingers through his hair, clenching them so tightly his knuckles white.

Deep breaths.

It had been an apology, truth laden and sincere, despite the flippancy of the delivery from his alcohol addled breath. It unnerves him, what he had done. _He is not- not anymore._ Even if his bride is _dead,_ he does not want to die. Not anymore.

Pulling on his clothes he makes his way to the kitchen, finding the reaper already cleaning the dishes from his breakfast.

“Good morning.”

“Good… morning.”

The extremities of the mansion betrayed the happenings inside. It hosted a goblin that had once wanted to die. It hosted a reaper that once wanted it too. Death’s pull eluded them, Life holding steadfast onto them in her, sometimes, crueler grasp.

Shin draws a deep breath, wiping the sweat on his palms onto his pants. “Yeo, I’m-”

“I know.” 

The silence is uncomfortable, unlike their past quiet moments together. Shin does not relent.

“No. I’m-” _Sorry. I-_

He stutters even in his telepathic message. With clenched teeth, he tries again.

“I’ve not been a very good friend have I?” Yeo blinks, his expression soft, understanding. It reminds Shin once more why he chose to forgive him. To give the reaper, his friend, a second chance. A chance to stand on equal grounds with him.

“You’re still mourning.”

“It doesn’t excuse what I said.” _Or did._

Yeo swallows. Finding the tiles more interesting whilst wringing his hands with nervousness.

“I was an absolute asshole.”

“I’m glad you know.”

“I- Hey!”

Yeo’s laugh is subdued, even if it is genuine. Shin apologises once more on his mind, for ever burdening him.

“Shin.”

“Yes?”

“Do you… need help?” Yeo’s eyes seem to burn with an intensity so fierce Shin finds it difficult to draw breath. “Last night was… something.” Yeo pauses, licking his lips before continuing. “When was the last time you… consulted someone?”

His first instinct is to guard himself, to not let himself be vulnerable. But Yeo's hands are firm and gentle on his rough ones, gaze imploring, no, hoping, he will answer. They owe each other nothing, past debts paid for in the unspoken promise exchanged in the tea room when Shin returned home, battered by snowstorms. Apology accepted.

“I know I had no right to rifle through them but… you were gone and I… thought you were never coming back. A part of me hoped you would, of course.” It hurts, almost physically, to see the stoic reaper cry, for what reason exactly deludes them both. “I… missed you. I read about your visitations. They were your private journals but they were the only things that were left.”

Shin circles his arms around him, just as Yeo holds him.

“I didn’t know.”

“Only director Yu did.”

“After he…  passed away?"

“I stopped going.”

“Deok Hwa?”

“He’s forgotten.”

Shin feels his heart palpitate faster, the topic an uncomfortable one. He doesn't know why the words slip off his tongue so easily, even though a part of him wants to do nothing but hide.  

“Do you… want me to go with you?"

The goblin feels his heart calm slightly, the earlier unease still present but lightened.

“I'm here for you, but if you need… someone else who knows better… I'll accompany you?” Yeo asks softly.

“Don't you have to work?”

“I can make time.”

Shin doesn't pull away from the hug until sometime later. Wiping stray tears off the corner of his eyes with a flick of his wrists.

_Thank you._

Outside, there are no peach blossoms blooming. There is also not a single rain cloud in sight.

Shin doesn't let go of his grasp on Yeo's scarred wrists. He knows, where they are from and why they are there. It is a conversation that happened years ago. Passed.

“I… I'm here for you too. If you ever need me.” He says sheepishly. The words are strange on his tongue but sincere.

This time, Yeo is the one that pulls him close. It is warmer, in the other’s embrace. Perhaps it is because it is an echo of the first expression of gratitude that the second is so much sweeter.

_Thank you._

 

-

 

 

 

 

_When you feel so lonely,_

_I’ll be here to shelter you._  

 

 

_When you feel so lonely,_

_I’ll be here, here for you_

 

 

_If I could fly above the clouds,_

_like all the birds,_

_And I could hold you for a while to let you feel my pulse._

 

 

_And I’m here home, home,_

_With you, with me._

 

_I will be here for you._

 

 

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how to feel about this chapter tbh. There's a lot of heavy stuff going on and I was trying to not make it over-the-top with angst? How do you feel abt the scene where Shin does something akin to a suicide attempt and they discuss going to a therapist? Idk, i feel like that topic needs more elaboration.
> 
> There are so many ideas for shin and yeo im just churning everything out slowly to purge myself of my feelings. This is gonna be a really long slowburn lol. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> The song lyrics at the end are from the Goblin OST 'And I'm Here' by Kim Kyung Hee.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the sameness that aches, the sameness that salves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter’s tylenol scene deserves more in depth exploration so here’s a follow up-ish chapter. A lot of the angst so far seems Shin heavy and imbalanced. Will work on my hcs for Yeo in the later chapters. Till then, here’s a chap filled with angst and comfort. 
> 
> Changed the rating for this fic to M since I believe it's going to need it in the future anyway. Also, if there are inaccuracies in the portrayal of psychotherapy, I apologise in advance! I’ve done some research ofc but my writing skills are mediocre soooo pardon me.

Seated within the heated premises of the restaurant, Shin feels the semblance of normalcy returning to his life. Bringing the hot kimchi soup to his lips, he lets the sourness and spiciness pervade his tongue, the soft tofu slip down his throat. Deok Hwa and Yeo sit before him, just like all those years ago.

Funnily enough, Yeo and his nephew’s attentions are also on the television instead of the meal before them.

“Good night, Min Min!”

With every scoop of his rice,  he thinks of how nice it would be to have been able to share another meal with her. To return to the past brief stint of domesticity. If it is drizzling lightly outside, the others make no mention of it.

_ The time It takes for someone to heal from heartbreak, differs from person to person. _

He knew this. Ji Eun Tak is not his first bride, even if she shined a bright light on his long life, illuminating numbered but meaningful days in the years he owns. He remembers his past lovers, past friends. Time swept through them, catalysing the atrophy of their muscles, whittling them into frail men and women, returning to soil. Perhaps, he had been naive, to believe that she had been an outlier. A century of knowing how mortals died should have made him know better.

Her innocent outlook on life shook his purview on his own long one. A reward, his long life. To have had the chance to meet her. 

Maybe. Maybe there was something precious to be found in this lifetime.

His family, his friends, his lovers.

As a general, he had given love to all. His king and the king that came after him. His sister. His country. As a goblin, he had met people who loved him back. He has the memory of them at least.

_ “I’m scared, petrified. So I wish you would repeat that I need you, and asked me to say it, too. I just need some reason. I hope this reason will allow me to continue living with you.” _

Was it enough reason to live?

_ “Mr Yu,” The doctor scribbled into the beige coloured paper file. Printed onto the sheet is his information, diagnosed Manic Depression. Bipolar Disorder. She flips the file shut before returning her attention to her patient. “What have you been doing on a daily basis since then?” _

_ They talk, her presence and queries not unfamiliar, falling into past patterns of him divulging his concerns. _

_ “I loved her. I lived for her.” But I doubt, she did not live for me. “She did not need me, as I needed her.” _

_ I had been desperate for death, desperate for life, and I had killed her in the process. My fault. _

Ji Eun Tak had not meant to exist, but a plea from her mother’s dying lips and a soft hearted deity led to her existence anyway. Born to be a Goblin’s bride. Born to be. Fated. Destined.

What a cruel prospect, to live with such a burden hanging over one’s head.

Had she sold herself to the idea of her destined love from birth? Had he himself? Fallen in love with the  _ concept  _ of having someone who could make him both live  _ and _ die?

Had they both been desperate?

_ It does not matter anymore, she is dead as a result of your meddlings and your need. _

“Yah, Jin-Ah! Stop tickling me!”

Blinking, the voice of the actress brings him back to reality. Deok Hwa is giggling at the television, Yeo’s eyes flit elsewhere when he looks up.

“Min~ let’s go for some ddeokbokki!”

The buzz of the young director’s phone causes Deok Hwa to jolt, digging into his pockets with panic. “Secretary Kim, do I really have to?” He whines. “Fine, fine.” Turning back to his uncle, he is somewhat relieved that he has at least lost the appearance of a defeated soldier.

_ “Is he eating?” The gravelly voice filters through the phone speakers. _

_ “Yes grandpa, I’m with him right now.” _

Deok Hwa makes a mental note to visit his uncle more often, both to check up on him and to cheer him up, even if he has to suffer through a goblin’s torment and teasing.  _ When was the last time his uncle took a jab at his want for money? _

“Samcheon, I have to get back to the office. You and uncle tenant can get home yourselves right?” Deok Hwa had offered to have lunch with them, mumbling something about getting away from secretary Kim for a while longer. With little fanfare, Deok Hwa strides through the restaurant doors, running to his car, phone held to his ear.

“He’s grown up so much already.” Yeo whispers, watching the young man drive off in his Maserati.

Shin huffs a laugh, reaching over to pick at Deok Hwa’s plate for pieces of Bulgogi beef. “You sound like a wistful parent.” Yeo’s resulting scowl draws out the rest of his laugh.

“I hope you choke on that meat.” The reaper looks back down to his noodles, only to discover that the sour radish pickles on his cold buckwheat noodles have disappeared.

Shin lifts his chopsticks as a mock cheers before stuffing the pickles into his mouth with a satisfied grin. Yeo’s face darkens, his scowl deepening.

“Oh, don’t be such a  _ pickle  _ about it.” The goblin has enough self-preservation instinct to stop himself from bursting into laughter.

“Those were my favourite!” Pouting, Yeo looks down at his bowl of plain noodles. Feeling sympathetic, Shin plucks the kimchi from his lunch set’s side dish and drops it into Yeo’s bowl.

“There, a trade off.” He explains to Yeo’s bewildered expression.

“I don’t want what you don’t want.”

“You’re such a sourpuss. Friends  _ share  _ their food with each other.”

Grumbling under his breath, Yeo complains. “Friends don’t make you want to pull out your hair.”

Grinning, Shin leans forward, chopsticks aimed at Yeo’s buckwheat noodles. “Come on, give me some noodles, I’ll trade you for some tofu!”

Shoving him back with both hands, Yeo cries.

“No! Get your own!”

The pitter patter of rain softens.

-

It had been Yeo’s idea, to go on a stroll in a nearby park. Shin accepts, running along with the motions.

_ I should get him out of the house more often, better to get him out and about. _

He had not meant to overhear the Reaper’s mental notes regarding his treatment of his  _ diagnosed manic depressed housemate.  _ Yeo has seen him in his moments of mania, a week long of his quickened speech and insomnia,  _ elated _ to the point of suffocation.

His tendency to be over-dramatic was normal. But during his manic episodes, he would be vibrating with enough energy to power nuclear reactors, the exhilaration of shopping thrumming through his loins, flaunting his extensive wardrobe with obnoxious grandiosity. Sleep evaded him then, waking early and sleeping late, the need of it unfelt.

It is a high that does not seem to end.

Until it does.

Swept by darker thoughts that he is embarrassed to have, shame clawing the walls of his stomach, leaving him fearful of what he wants.  _ Do you beg for life or for death? _ Because she peeled the protective layers he had put in place, unveiling his patheticity, his dependency on others.

His will to live.

_ What reason is there?  _ He asked, in his pleas to the deities.  _ None.  _ He answered in lieu of the deities lack of one.

_ You were given love.  _ Had been her answer. A reason. Given after 900 years of melancholy.

Ji Eun Tak is dead and everything is the same once more. Will he wait for his heart to grow weak again, to find friends and family to love and to lose. Has he not deceived himself of the existence of a reason for so long already?

He did not know how to live for  _ himself _ .

“Do you want some ice cream?”

He turns towards the Reaper, apparently on leave because of his over-dependant housemate. Near them is an ice cream truck, the pop up tent dripping rainwater from the earlier shower. Shin puts aside his conflicted heart for a fake, beaming at the reaper with his teeth showing.

“Are you going to pay for this too?”

Yeo scowls as he looks up and down the menu. “I'll have strawberry, please.” Whilst he waits, the rainwater drips into the opening of his collar, cool enough on his skin to make him twitch. Shin's lost expression had not missed, there was something wrong with that smile after all.

“You owe me a meal after this.”

Yeo doesn't comment on Shin's quick shake out of his own reverie, taking both cones from the ice cream vendor and pushing one into his hand.

“How could you forget your wallet at home but order so much at the restaurant?” he huffs, about to take out his much thinner wallet.

Shin grins back at him, and this time it is more genuine. A little giggle follows after it and Yeo thinks he would like for more of it.

The Goblin grins as he steps forward into Yeo's personal space, reaching behind his ear before he can move away. He pulls out a few notes with a magician's flair and a soft “Ta-da!”, somewhat satisfied with Yeo's angry grumbling about rich goblins exploiting poor reapers.

-

It is peaceful. The quiet squish of wet soil beneath his soles, the sweetness of the chocolate ice cream melting on his tongue. Shin lets it distract him. Just for this moment, he will enjoy the soft breeze that carries the smell of grasses, the occasional tickle from rain drops on his hair and shoulders, his friend's comforting presence by side. It is nice, to share this silence with someone.

He had not realised that he had voiced his thoughts aloud.

“It's alright, you know.”

“Huh?”

“To live for someone else if you cannot for yourself yet.”

Shin blinks, chewing on his cone slower, attempting to decipher Yeo's meaning.

“I once had a pet cat. There was a time when the assignments I had were too much. The punishment wearing on what I suppose is, despite my lack of life, my will for it.”

Yeo brushes off the moisture on the bench before taking a seat. Shin takes his seat beside him.

“I got by because of her, because she needed me. Even though I am already technically dead, she made me want to continue living.”

_ “Please, my lord, would you consider living instead?”  _ Director Yu had once pleaded.

“You still have Deok Hwa, you still have Sunny, you still have me.” Yeo turns towards Shin, whose eyes have seen the passing of 9 centuries but was still unaware of the miracles he brought to those around him.

“ ‘I had been given love, but had not loved anyone.’ You taught me that, but… you… you idiot,” Yeo laughs a little, the sound clear and bright and Shin thinks he would like to hear it more often, “should be willing to receive it.”  _ You have given me so much, if you would let me, I want to return it. _

“I meant it then as I do still. I don't want you to die.” Shin feels his breath pause, but it is not uncomfortable. The leaves stop rustling from the wind and rain droplets hang from the tip of leaves.

“You're not alone anymore, in being unable to die, in having to stay alive.” Yeo sniffs, a thoughtful smile on his lips. “I still have Deok Hwa, I still have my friends, I still have you. _ ” You are important to me. _

Maybe, in the corner of his heart, a tiny voice squashed by his doubts and self-hatred, worn by years of grieving, had needed to hear it; To be needed, to be necessary.

He a relic, out of time, out of place. Alone.

Not anymore.

_ “We are but brief visitors in their long life.” The director sighs, leaning into his chair, his grandson grumbling to his right. _

Slowly, calmly, the water from a nearby fountain begins to trickle into the collecting basin, the birds in the sky continue on their journey to their nests, tiny earthworms crawl back into the warm and moist soil once more. 

The earth continues turning on its axis, continues on its orbit around the sun.

Ji Eun Tak is dead and the world is as it was but for a small difference.

He had been lonely.

He had wanted death.

Now he has company in his loneliness, now he has death by his side.

He has someone to share his burdens and his joy with.

He had wanted a reason to live. This was enough reason, he thought.

_ Yes, I still have you. _

_ And you are important to me too. _

_ - _

_ “What harm is there in doing this to myself when I can't die? It's a suicide attempt that will never come to fruition anyway.” _

_ “I don't want you to die.” _

_ “Well, I can't. Isn't that the point here?” _

_ "I want you to live, to be happy, to not darken the skies with rain." _

-

The rain cleanses the earth, revealing lush green saplings that burst forth from the mud.

Faraway, a single, unimpressionable, fairy pink peach blossom blooms.

Spring comes after winter, as it always has and always will.

  
  
  
  
  


Tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd I write something without much planning and it goes weird  
> Oh well.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! Next chap will probs be a little fluffier as shin and Yeo's relationship grows deeper.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The undead, death and birthdays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure about this chapter. I admit I'm not the most clear headed whilst writing, with no proper plan. Plot-wise, this story is going... somewhere?? Shin and Yeo are bonding however... slowly.

Wedged between her textbook for algebra and pastel orange pencil holder is Ji Eun Tak's box of electronic treasures. Within it, white coloured earphones rolled into a ball, a spare SD card for her DSLR camera, a black USB stick containing several pirated movies and episodes from various TV series. In the midst of going through her belongings after her funeral, the two immortals were at a loss at what to do.

More accurately, the room reminds them too much of what they have both lost.

“What's in this thing anyway?” The goblin asks with red rimmed eyes and a sore throat. On his hip is an apron, in his right hand a feather duster, in his left is Ji Eun Tak's USB stick. 

“Plug it in a laptop to find out. We can use a break.” Yeo's forehead glistens from perspiration, fringe tied back with a peach hair band, fingers protected by banana coloured gloves. 

Had the missing soul been alive and their activities a simple spring clean of the mansion, the domesticity would have been comical to the sight. Eun Tak would have loved telling about it to Deok Hwa.

“There are some movies in here, let's play it on the television.”

Abandoning their cleaning tools and supplies as well as the Missing Soul's bedroom, the duo made their way towards the living room sofas, flopping down onto opposite ends with a tired sigh. Yeo summons some bottles of yogurt from the cupboard with a flick of his wrists, Shin sets up the USB drive into the the television with a wave of his hands. A large blanket appears on his lap as he folds his legs to accommodate the bowl for popcorn.

“What movie is it?”

“Don't know. Give me a bottle.” Yeo passes Shin a bottle of yogurt, newly chilled, as Shin heats the packet of microwaveable popcorn in his hand. 

As the opening credits roll, the smell of hot salted popcorn fills the air. 

Shin is stuffing the popcorn into his mouth with abandon until the title splashes onto the screen with blood, giving him pause.

“Is this a-” his query is cut short as a horde of zombies begin chasing after the main character in a post apocalyptic New York City. Tossing the bowl of popcorn into the air, Shin screams whilst scrambling under his blanket, pulling it over his head and burying himself into his corner of the sofa.

“Yah! Did you have to throw all the popcorn everywhere?!” Yeo yells as he picks out pieces from his hair and sweater.

“I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS A HORROR MOVIE!”

“Weren't you my fearless general in our past lives?” The reaper huffs before brushing off the remainder, attention back on the screen. Shin's flinches synced with the low beat of dramatic music. On screen, the largest and most grotesque zombie was making its slow journey to the main character’s hiding spot, dragging its molting skin along the floor with every heavy step. 

Yeo sighs at the cliche horror movie trope, paying attention to only the main character’s budding romance with another survivor. Cliched, the post-apocalyptic setting pushing two characters who would otherwise never get together. Funny, how he was absolutely riveted by their proclamation of love despite the predictability of their kiss.

Unfortunately, the resident goblin’s trembling and terrified squeaks were disrupting the experience. 

“Such a brave and fearless warrior, indeed.” Yeo clicks his tongue whilst shaking his head, transforming Shin’s terrified expression into one of contempt. “The effects aren't even realistic.”

Before Shin can sputter a rebuttal, the horde of zombies burst through the wall with a crash, ghastly mouths wailing as they chase after the two protagonists, causing the goblin to jump off the couch and bury his face behind the reaper like a terrified ostrich.

“YAH! What are you doing?!”

The grim reaper attempts, unsuccessfully, to spring off the sofa and away from the goblin, falling back with a thump and Shin’s arms wrapped tight around him. 

“Gob-uf!!”

“DON’T LET THEM GET ME!”

Shin’s grip tightens, making it difficult for Yeo to take breath. Loudly, Shin wails into Yeo’s sweater, snot and tears staining the fabric. Shaking like a leaf, Shin cries, babbling what sounds like prayers and pleas for Yeo to protect him. 

“Get off me!”

Yeo's attempts to pry the goblin off his torso are futile. Giving up with a deep sigh  _ because _ he still wants to know what will happen to the main couple, he decides it is better to deal with the situation than let it stew longer.

Even though his next course of actions made his tongue taste bitter.

“Oi, stupid goblin. They're not real.”

Shin's trembling has barely reduced, the gory scene of fake zombie blood splattering onto the protagonist as he stabs the zombie in the jugular with a broken glass playing before him helps little. Yeo relents, perhaps the show is a little graphic after all, the loud splat of wet intestines as the zombie drops dead from a gunshot. Shin feels his dinner churn uncomfortably in his stomach. 

_ I think I’m going to hurl I think I’m going to hurl I think I’m going to hurl _

Panicking, Yeo moves to phase two of his series of distasteful attempts at comforting the goblin.

“Shh shh shh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry, the zombies aren’t real.”   


Shin lets out something that sounds like a curious cross of a dying whale and a cat in pain. Whining at Yeo’s poor attempts to calm him down, Shin has now managed to curl like a cat next to Yeo, head buried into his torso and arms clinging tightly. Yeo wants to vomit himself at their closeness. He has never been this close to anyone.

His mind unhelpfully supplies him that he has hugged Shin, Sunny and Missing soul several times already. Maybe even held hands with other reapers in their desperation for human contact. (And those dreadful past reaper to reaper relationships he’d much rather forget.)

In sum, majority of his positive contact with another being had mostly been with the pathetic goblin currently holding him in a death grip and looking at him with the most pitiful (and hideous) tear stained gaze.

_ It’s different this time!  _ He screams to his own consciousness.  _ I didn’t initiate this!  _ He squashes the fleeting thought that  _ Shin smells nice  _ with a loud “YAH, STUPID DOKKAEBI! FINE YOU CAN STAY THERE. JUST DON’T VOMIT ON ME.” Retrieving the pastel pink blanket from the floor with a flick of his wrists, Yeo covers the whole of Shin with it, letting the pink cocoon huddle next to him as they watch the protagonists flee the next wave of zombies yet again.

By the time the credits roll, a pink mound rests on Yeo’s lap, exhausted from crying, screaming and flinching out of fright, the goblin’s soft snores falling on the reaper’s ears. Yeo thinks, before the sound lulls himself to sleep, how much warmer it is to have him next to him.

-

“Where are you going this time of day, you lazy goblin.” The reaper asks as he dons his hat, about to step out of the mansion and into the frigid night air of South Korea.

“Why do I have to answer to you? Were you some  _ king  _ in your previous life?” Shin huffs at Yeo’s direction before walking out the doors. To Yeo’s surprise, he doesn’t disappear as he usually does through gateways. 

“Yah, that’s rude. Anyway, are you searching for the missing soul again? She went out a while ago.” Yeo follows, deciding he has time to spare until he needs to teleport to his destination.

“No! And don’t follow me!”  _ I might make a trip to the grocery to get some snacks for her, she needs them whilst studying.  _

Yeo chases after him, a pesky mosquito out for blood. 

“You’re stupidly in love, aren’t you?” He teases, amused at Shin’s reddening ear tips and slight pout. “939 years old and smitten as a child!” Nothing tugged at the reaper’s cold facial expression more than the goblin’s flustering.

“Shut up! I’m 938!” Shin hisses, stomping away in angrily.

They reach a nearby food stall, no buildings (no doors) in sight, the plastic curtains stained by grease and fingerprints. Stray cats slinked between the numbered patrons legs, the smell of soju heavy in the air. Yeo finds it curious that the goblin would actually want to dine in such an establishment, what with his wealth and ability to summon gold at a whim.

“I’m here for a friend of mine.”

Yeo looks up from staring at a customer out cold on his table to see Shin greeting the store owner with forced cheer. His smile, though genuine, is sad.

“Mister Choi! Good to see you!”

“Is that you, General Yoo?” The cashier turns towards them with glassy, milk-white eyes, seeing nothing. Eyes widening, Yeo turns towards Shin for explanation. “He doesn’t know, it’s just a nickname he uses for me.”

“You brought a friend, my good boy! It’s been too long, how old are you now? Come, come, sit. You’ll be having your usual then, I assume? ” The blind old man moves with the grace of familiarity, ushering them to an empty table. Glancing at his black wristwatch, Yeo think he has time for at least a drink.

“Yes, sir. Come join us for a drink, on me.”

“Alright, make yourselves comfortable! I’d join you but I’m a little short on manpower this evening. It’s been months since you last visited, son. Any luck with the ladies?” The jovial old man asks as he sets cutleries before them and turns on the portable stove.

“No no, no luck with them.” Shin chuckles with poorly concealed despair. It was unlucky after all, to have to die by the hands of a loved one. 

“Ah well. Let me head to the back to get you men your drinks!”

Before Yeo can ask, Shin tells him. “He used to be a soldier in my army. One of many. I only got to know him  _ after _ I turned into a goblin.”

A general cares for his men but armies large and powerful had generals too busy to know every one of them. Wars were fought by nameless men but claimed by infamous leaders. 

“I found him about 20 years ago,”  _ and came here regularly because it’s safe to keep in touch with him.  _

_ Ah, he cannot see you as you are. _

“He’s already 67.” Shin whispers under his breath.

“Why the nickname?”

“I may or may not have once helped him kick out a few gangsters.” Shin brags as he scoops up fish cakes and rice cakes from the stew. “Want some?”

“I have leave in 20 minutes.” Yeo shakes his head as he answers.

“At least stay long enough so I can make you an excuse to tip him more.” Shin implores softly, stirring the broth in his bowl with his metal spoon, staring into it as a witch looks for answers in their cauldron. 

“Here you go, a glass for you and another for your friend. How should I call you sir?”

“His name is  _ Yeo _ , a tenant of mine.” Shin supplies before Yeo can fumble over his words. The reaper feels a slight unexplainable twinge in his chest. 

“Ah I see. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to yourselves. Hopefully I’ll be free later to catch up with you General Yoo.”

Yeo purses his lips once the old man leaves.

“He is about to die soon, isn’t he?”

Shin smiles as he pours the clear liquid into their cups before bringing it up for a cheers. Yeo picks up his own, the clinking of glasses confirming what Yeo suspected.

“I don’t think either one of us want the other as a friend but I’ll ask you for a small favour. One sinner to another, god’s plaything. Could you send him off, for me?” He sighs. “I complain about Eun Tak having a sad story to tell all the time and here I am with you as my priest in a confessional.”

“You’re leaving before he dies.”

“Yes.” He refills their cups. “I don’t know many mortals closely, but there are... a few exceptions… I would like a reaper I at least know to be the one to send them off. Better that than a stranger, right?”

“We are hardly friends, goblin.” He replies with little bite. 

“I know.” Clinking their glasses again, Yeo nods before chugging down the bitter liquid and sharing a satisfied exhale with the goblin. Even if it is the goblin he is helping, he would not betray what he has been entrusted with.

“It would have been great if I could have had a drink and a chat with my king years ago.”

 

-

 

_ For some reason, the reaper had agreed to follow the Goblin and his nephew on this trip to the cake shop. _

_ “Samcheon, I need to go pee. You two look for something a girl would like.” _

_ “Go, go, I don’t need details.” Shin waves him off with the exasperation of a parent dealing with a toddler.  _

_ Surrounding them are cakes of all shapes and sizes, flavours and colours. Stocked within the fridges is Ji Eun Tak’s celebratory cake.  _

_ “What sort of cake would she like?” The goblin and reaper ask aloud at the same time. With little pause, Shin points towards the cake with extravagant blue marble glazing.  _

_ “That one. It’s a chocolate cake, sweet and savoury. Just right after a gruelling exam.” _

_ “No, this one. It’s a strawberry chiffon cake, light and tangy. She’s going to want to destress after an intense paper. Not faint from the quesiness of chocolate.” Yeo points at a nearby cake decorated with pink icing and strawberry slices. _

_ “Chocolate is good for stress.” _

_ “You mean good for unhealthy sugar levels.” _

_ “Strawberry is just depressing.” _

_ “Chocolate is just baby food.” _

_ “Are you implying something?” _

_ “Do you like chocolate?” Yeo smirks. Checkmate. _

_ “Why, you!” Blue flames lick at the goblin’s coat as his anger stews. Unconsciously, the cakes in the cooler have begun heating up, the lights flickering dangerously. _

_ “Samcheon! What are you doing!” Deok Hwa hisses as the cakes fall unceremoniously with a splat.  _

_ This is your fault! _

_ I didn’t lose my temper like a child. _

_ “How are we going to get her a cake now?!” _

_ “There’s one left. I made sure it didn’t melt. You’ll have to pay for the damages though.” Yeo grins like a Cheshire cat. _

_ “You-!” _

It is her birthday. He has never celebrated it with her even once but it is the day he first met her.

Shin blows out the thirty candles that are not his to blow. 

“Ice cream cake again?”  Yeo asks from behind him. In his hands are some flowers he’d gotten as a gift. 

“Flowers, again?” Shin stares at the bundle in the reaper’s arms. 

“She liked them enough as a gift on your wedding day.” Squatting, Yeo places them gently beside the ice cream cake, beside the small tombstone that reads Ji Eun Tak.

“Yes, she did.”

 

-

 

_ Warm are the ghosts’ touch, _

_ Soft, fleeting, near-nonexistent. _

_ If she is here, _

_ And I like to think she might be, _

_ I hope she is happy.  _

_ If that gentle embrace I feel is her, _

_ I wish her, _

_ Happy Birthday. _   
  
  
  


Tbc

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always have this bad habit of wanting to write this particular scene but ending up writing another due to sudden ideas/inspo which, upon later reading, should not have been replaced :P 
> 
> But no one else is writing fic for me, so. I've been reading mandarin fanfics but so far... none of them have covered headcanons I'd like explored. So YEAH. I should make a list so my future chaps aren't so... messy.
> 
> Thank you for reading regardless!

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this is my take on what happened in those 30 years Shin and Yeo lived together hahaha Ouch I love pain. 
> 
> I love the idea of Yeo carrying Shin bridal style and vice versa hahahaha. This is an angsty one though.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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